


Five Minutes

by Jennistar



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hermann is a freaking badass, M/M, set five months after Pacific Rim 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennistar/pseuds/Jennistar
Summary: The Precursor inside Newton makes a request. Hermann makes a counter request.





	Five Minutes

They don't let Hermann see Newton. Hermann completely understands, of course, he Drifted with a Kaiju just like Newt, so it's all too possible that he was in some way affected as well, and if that is the case any exposure to Newton in his current state could make things worse. Even without seeing Newt, Hermann's nightmares change, becoming darker, sadder, featuring a grim-faced Newton attempting to recruit Hermann into the Precursors plans. For a few panicky months Hermann genuinely thinks he might have not escaped the Precursors, but gradually the nightmares fade in intensity and he's sure he's in the clear.

Ninety-nine percent sure, anyway.

He doesn't even go to see Newton through the one way mirror they've set up in his cell. Jake tells him multiple times that he can, that the thing inhabiting Newton is just like a human in that it can't work out when someone is behind the mirror or who they are, but Hermann always says no. He's not sure why he does, but it has something to do with temptation, and the removal of oneself from it. If he can help it, he won't see Newt again until they've worked out how to rid him of that creature inside him – which is something that he is working on tirelessly.

It turns out though, that Newton has a different opinion about this.

 

Hermann is called into Jake and Shao's shared office one day, almost five months after they captured Newton and put him in the cell, and he can tell almost straight away that it is something to do with that.

Very slowly he takes a chair. “Tell me,” he says.

Jake and Shao exchange a look and it occurs to Hermann that they would probably be very Drift Compatible. They already speak without words.

“The Precursor inside Newt has made us an offer,” Jake says at last. “We were wondering what you thought about it.”

Hermann feels his hand tighten on his cane, but tries not to show it on his face.

Shao speaks, clear and concise as always. “The Precursor Emissary has made a request. It wishes to spend exactly five minutes with a human asking questions about humanity, questions which must be answered in their entirety. And in exchange, the Precursor Emissary will spend exactly five minutes answering any questions humanity might have. _Any_ questions. It will be an exchange of information, you could say.”

This time Hermann's hand clutches his cane so hard that it must be noticeable. “This is not...the best idea,” he says, as calmly as he can.

“We are aware of that,” says Shao. “It is suspicious behaviour, seeing as we do not know how much the Emissary is relating back to the Precursors. However, it does also give us a chance to receive some much needed information from them.”

Hermann frowns. “But that just keeps us on a level playing field. And there's no guarantee the Precursors or the humans won't lie when answering their questions. Why would the Precursor Emissary make this offer if it didn't benefit the Precursors in some way?”

“Well,” Jake says, shrugging. “It could be bored.”

Hermann can't help but throw an incredulous look in Jake's direction. Jake grins a bit at his expression. “You haven't seen Newt these past few months,” he says. “It's been daily tantrums about how bored he is. And to be honest none of us can tell whether it's the Precursor or Newt saying it.”

Hermann thinks back to when he and Newton shared a lab, to those rare times when there was a lull in their work between attacks and all they could do was write reports, endless reports. Newton was not the most patient person during those times. “Definitely Newton,” he says, and Jake grins properly.

Shao smoothly and effortlessly steers the conversation back on track. “There is another reason why we are asking you specifically about this, Dr Gottlieb. The Precursor didn't just request any human to go through this. It requested you.”

 

Hermann says no first, on instinct, but about a day later, the curiosity becomes too much for him, and he changes his answer to yes. He is sat down in front of one of the best psychologists in the world, to check if there really is any residual Precursor influence infecting his decisions. He spends most of the interview ranting about Newton's many flaws, but for some reason this seems to satisfy the psychologist that he is Precursor-free, if not entirely sane.

Jake talks to Newton/the Precursor Emissary a little more and a time and date is set. Then all that's left is to line the outside of the cell with guards (the Precursor Emissary refuses to answer a single question unless it is Hermann and only Hermann in the room with him) and train Hermann to use a taser – he's pretty useless with it and is not one hundred percent sure he could even bring himself to use it on Newton.

 

When the day comes, Hermann, Jake, Shao and about twenty Rangers with guns go into the little room on the other side of the one way mirror first, so Hermann can get his first look at Newton in five months.

He's bound to a chair, the only object in the room, staring up at the ceiling with big blank eyes. He's lost so much weight that Hermann can see the lines of his ribcage when he breathes. He takes deep, steady breaths, and his face is gaunt and almost skeletal. For the first time, Hermann wonders just who made this odd request – the Precursor or Newton – and whether it is possible that Newton made it himself, just to see Hermann again.

“We should go through this one more time,” says Shao, always and entirely in charge. “As mentioned before – ”

“I know,” Hermann interrupts, irritated. “Be vague with my answers, and downright lie if I have to, I understand. I have a lot of experience with the Precursors, Ms Shao, I think I can navigate one small conversation without giving away the secrets of mankind.”

Shao huffs but Jake smiles. “I think he's going to be fine. And we've gone through the questions Hermann's going to ask a million times.”

It took weeks to make up a list of questions, but they did it, and Hermann even has a copy folded neatly in his pocket in case, heaven forbid, he forgets them. They contain questions about the mathematics, biology, chemistry, even history and philosophy of the Precursors.

It doesn't matter what the questions are though. Hermann decided from the beginning that he wasn't going to ask any of them.

There is only one thing he wants to know.

 

It takes a bit of an argument with Shao to get the guards to release Newt from the chair, but she does it at last, clearly deciding its too much bother to continue arguing with Hermann, who can be extremely persistent when he puts his mind to it. Jake flaps, worrying about safety, but Hermann gives him an awkward pat on the arm – something the old Hermann would never have done before he Drifted with Newton and lost some of his social awkwardness – and tells him it will be fine.

After all, the Precursor wouldn't go to all this trouble to get Hermann in a room just to kill him, right?

Right. Probably.

 

Once the guards leave, Hermann enters the room, dragging his own chair in with him. Newt's face is even more wild and alien up close, all angles and glassy eyes.

“Hermmie!” he shrieks joyfully. “I've missed you!”

Hermann allows himself a twitch of the eyebrow. “I'm sure,” he says, and neatly positions his chair in front of Newt's. “Shall we?”

Newt has been pacing, shaking out his legs, but at Hermann's suggestion, he sits back down in his own chair promptly, watching Hermann sort himself out. Only when he is sat comfortably, hands balanced on the top of the cane in front of him, does the Precursor/Newton speak.

“You look good,” he says.

“Mmhmm.” Hermann taps a finger on his cane. “Then I'm definitely not talking to Newton right now. He never passes up an opportunity to abuse my fashion choices.”

The thing wearing Newton smiles, a sort of sly twisted smile that looks foreign on his face. Newton was never the sly one out of the two of them. Newton was the brash, loud one who wore his feelings openly on his face at all times. Hermann can't believe it took him so long to realise something was wrong with the man.

“I have a lot of questions,” Newton says, changing the subject entirely. “And I'm going first. As a courtesy, so you can respond to my questioning in your own questions if you wish.”

“How considerate,” Hermann drawls. “I set up an automatic countdown.” He waves a hand at the one way mirror and a screen at the end of the room lights up in red: 05:00 minutes.

“Of course you did,” sniggers Newt, sounding unexpectedly Newtonian for a moment. Then he shrugs and says, “We'd better begin.”

The clock counts down and Newton asks questions. They are, it turns out, quite similar to the ones the PPDC wrote down for Hermann to ask, pointed questions to dig out any weaknesses the humans have which could be exploited. Hermann dodges and outright lies quite obviously, but the thing in Newton's head never challenges him on it. Indeed, it looks almost bored with the proceedings, as if it's just testing Hermann to see what he will do. Perhaps, Hermann thinks with an undeniable shred of hope, the Precursor Emissary is thinking of making this a regular Q&A. Maybe he'll have much longer interviews in the future.

Much more quickly than it seems, the five minutes are over, and Hermann is fairly sure he hasn't given away anything the Precursors can use effectively against them. Newton sits back and grins at him.“Bet you're wondering why I chose you, Hermmie. Well it's true when I say I've missed you. Have you missed me?”

Hermann locks eyes with Newton. “I believe the time for your questions is over.”

Newton huffs out a laugh and smiles so genuinely that Hermann wonders whether a little of the old Newton crept out there.

This was why he never came to see Newton until now. This was why he wasn't going to. Because every little thing this creature does makes him wonder – was that Newton or the Precursor? Was that Newton or the Precursor?

Hermann hates wondering. He hates vague, fuzzy concepts. That's why he likes mathematics, because it's definite. It's a solid construct. And wondering, constant wondering, is nothing but an irritating distraction when you're trying to work out how to free your favourite person in the world from the nightmare of their life.

Still, perhaps the plan he has up his sleeve will help with that.

“Now,” the thing wearing Newt's face says. “Your turn. Five minutes on the clock, and you can ask me anything. And please don't make it boring. Think of the things we _know_. The things we've _seen_. I could tell you the mysteries of the universe – ”

“I don't want to ask any questions,” Hermann interrupts calmly, putting his plan into action. “I have a request instead.”

There is a brief silence.

He surprises the thing, at least he does that. Newt's face scrunches up in the way it always used to whenever Hermann's lectures went too deep into mathematics. “You what?”

Hermann meets its eyes. “I want to talk to Newton. The real Newton, mind you, not this pathetic excuse of a creature taking up valuable space inside his head.”

The thing's face is still scrunched up, eyes squinting from behind Newt's glasses. “You do realise what I know, right? What I could tell you? You want answers to all those little mathematical puzzles that you stupid humans have been scratching your heads over for centuries, I've got them. You want to learn how to make your own rift between worlds, I can tell you. Hey, screw it, I can even tell you how to defeat us!” It takes a deep frustrated breath. “Christ, I can tell you the meaning of life, you ridiculous man, and all you want to do is talk to this pathetic meat sack!”

Hermann shrugs. “Yes.”

The thing stares at him. Hermann is suddenly acutely aware that there is some banging and shouting going on behind the one way mirror, so he turns his head and fixes the glass with his best steely glare. “I've booby trapped the locks, Ms Shao,” he says. “They were set to break once I walked in here. So you won't be getting in any time soon. And anyway, isn't it best to be sure the real Newton is still in there?” He transfers his stare to the thing in Newt's body. “Because if he's not, we can just put a bullet into his head right here and now.”

The thing wearing Newt's face twists his mouth, so like Newt every time he got stuck figuring something out. He never wore that expression often, was far too much of a genius for that, but Hermann had been around most of the times when he had.

“Fine,” the creature says at last. “Five minutes, and that's all. For all the good it will do you.”

It stands up from the chair, walking slowly to the back of the room, its face turned away from Hermann. Hermann stands too, suddenly nervous and trying his best not to show it. And then Newt's body slumps. He staggers, once, twice, then catches himself with one hand on the wall, stretching out the other towards Hermann, who took a step forward instinctively when Newt stumbled.

“Wait,” says Newt, and Hermann can't tell if it's Newt or the Precursor talking. He does as he's told, fingers drumming on the head of his cane, and then Newt straightens up and looks at Hermann.

And it is, without a shadow of a doubt, _him_. Hermann doesn't know how he can tell, something about the eyes, but he can. It's Newt standing in front of him, he's here after all and the sight of him is absolutely incredible.

And then of course Newt ruins it by speaking.

“Where the _fuck_ have you been?!” he roars.

Hermann blinks. “Excuse me? I – ”

“You absolute prick!” Newt shouts. “Do you know how long I've been trapped in this _bloody_ cell, I've been bored _out of my mind_ , the food is _crap_ and you _never came to see me_ – not once!”

Hermann sets his jaw, an all too familiar irritation coming over him, and finds himself lapsing into his old ways. “Oh well I'm _terribly_ sorry if I didn't immediately rush to be in the same room as the man who tried to _strangle me_ – ”

“ - Oh sure, blame me for this thing's attacks, that's so like you, always pushing the blame onto _me_ – ”

“ - And do you know what, even if you hadn't let yourself become inhabited by a fucking _Precursor_ , Dr Geiszler, which, by the way, what the _fuck_ \- I still wouldn't have come because I've barely seen you for a _decade_ – ”

“ - Oh _come on_ – ”

“You don't call, you don't write, it was months between communications, probably before that thing even got a proper hold of you, you can blame the Precursor for many things Newton but you can't blame it for your natural _laziness_ – ”

“Laziness? That's rich coming from someone who once just copied and pasted an old report to send to the Marshall because you couldn't be bothered to get off your fat arse – ”

“Excuse you, that was a _secret_ , I can't believe you Newton, I could be learning the mysteries of the universe right now and instead it's just your constant, incessant screaming at me, like I didn't get enough of that for the past _twenty_ _years_ – ”

“Well, I – ” And then Newton's breath catches in his chest, and he wobbles a bit, and Hermann notices his eyes are wet. He drops his rigid stance immediately, taking two steps forward so they're within arms length of each other.

“Are you okay?” he asks carefully.

Newt shakes his head, tears forming. “No,” he says on a sob, and wraps his arms around Hermann's neck in a desperate hug.

It's as easy as breathing, and for a while that's all they do, clinging to each other, Newt's arms like a vice around Hermann's neck and his face buried into his shoulder, and Hermann taking the moment to soften, to revel in the solid warmth of Newt again and the peace, the peace of knowing he's here.

Things go very quiet, apart from the stifled sobbing of Newton into his shoulder. Hermann rubs a careful hand down his back. “It's all right,” he murmurs uselessly, and Newton shakes his head but is clearly too exhausted for another fight. Hermann keeps rubbing his hand on Newton's back, long, slow strokes, and watches the clock in the room count down. It's been three minutes already, how can it have already been three minutes?

Newton sniffles and pulls away a little, so he can look Hermann in the face. “I can't believe you gave up the mysteries of the universe just to talk to me. This is such a massive waste of your five minutes."

Hermann looks at Newt. His face is red and blotchy, tired, skin dry and tight on his face, hair an endless mess, but the eyes behind the glasses are definitely him, clear as day.

“No,” Hermann says, “It isn't.”

Newt makes a face like he wants to smile but can't quite remember how to. He unlocks his arms from Hermann's neck but pushes his face back into his shoulder, glasses digging into Hermann's collar bone. “I don't know what to do,” he says into Hermann's shirt.

Hermann permits himself the luxury of running a hand through Newton's nightmare hair. After all, there's only a minute left to go now. “You just need to fight,” he says.

“I'm _trying_.” Newt sounds exhausted. “It's so strong, Hermann, it's – ”

“I know,” Hermann interrupts. “I remember.” Because he does, every night, when he wakes from a screaming nightmare about their Drift with that – thing. He remembers the strength he sensed even in those few minutes in contact with the creature. “Newt – you're not alone. Please remember that. You're not alone. And you need to keep fighting.”

Newt pulls his face out of Hermann's shoulder, frowning. “Did you just call me Newt?”

Hermann allows himself a crooked smile. “Enjoy it,” he says. “It will never happen again. Fifteen seconds.”

Newt nods, plucks at Hermann's clothes. “This is an absolutely _awful_ jumper,” he says. “Did you dress in the dark?”

And Hermann laughs before he knows what he's doing – and then their five minutes are up.

The thing wearing Newt returns, so swiftly that Hermann is never quite sure afterwards how far away from Newt's mind it really went. It steps away from Hermann like it's stepping away from a ticking bomb.

“I hope that was worth it, Hermmie,” it snarls, “Because I never want you visiting me again.”

 

There's a lot of shouting later on, but Hermann is immovable and won't apologise to anyone, simply sits in his chair, hands balanced on his cane, until the shouting eventually shouts itself out. After all, sure, he could have asked the thing how they destroy the Precursors but there would have been no way of knowing if it spoke the truth, and anyway, that way Newt would never be back with them.

And that is the only important thing when it really comes down to it. At least in Hermann's opinion.

“For gods sake,” Shao says finally, in disgust, “We've learned nothing here.”

Hermann thinks about Newton – about him being there, still existing, about him knowing he's not alone, about how he remembered to fight, about how scared that Precursor looked when it told him to never come back again – and smiles to himself.

“Oh I wouldn't say that,” he says.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first Pacific Rim fic so I hope I got a grip of the characters! Also Hermann is a not-so-secret BAMF and no one can convince me otherwise.


End file.
